Log in

No account? Create an account
okay, so i'm the dragon. big deal.
16 February 2010 @ 08:59 pm
basically, going to powell's on payday is just. not advised.

proof.Collapse )

basically i've read a few of those, i just wanted to own them again.


Feminine Mystique - Betty Friedan
Full Frontal Feminism - Jessica Velenti
Written on the Body - Jeanette Winterson (this might kill me, just saying.)
A Common Pornography - Kevin Sampsell
The History of Love - Nicole Krauss (i hope this is good)
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close - Jonathan Safran Foer
Peter Camenzind - Herman Hesse
Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides


Neither Wolf Nor Dog - Kent Nerburn (jfc i have like fifty pages left and i love this book what is wrong with me.)
On the Road - Jack Kerouac
Yes Means Yes! - Jaclyn Friedman and Jessica Valenti (i'm taking it an essay at a time and it's hard to read sometimes but i'll get through it because i love it i swear!)
The Heart is a Lonely Hunter - Carson McCullers
My Doris zine anthology


Stone Butch Blues - Leslie Feinberg
The Hanged Man and Echo - Francesca Lia Block (whatever they're kind of kid-ish but they're beautiful)
Demian - Herman Hesse
Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
Sense and Sensibility - Jane Ausen
Crush - Richard Siken (if books were outlawed and people could only memorize them and pass them along through storytime, this would be my contribution.)

basically, the lesson i've learned today is to avoid places that sell books at all costs.

okay, so i'm the dragon. big deal.
15 February 2010 @ 11:13 pm
battlestar galactica season 3.

oh man oh man oh manCollapse )


oh my god. i'm crying. i'm not one to cry over tv shows or movies but sdofhae;krlgaadskjfgh. i love them.
okay, so i'm the dragon. big deal.
15 February 2010 @ 10:14 pm
bonding time in my family: watching the bachelor every monday night.

okay, so i'm the dragon. big deal.
last june my friend sydney killed herself. this coincided, roughly, with the bubble bursting on the well scripted life i'd been leading up to that point. i don't mention this a lot. reality is that she's gone now, and since then everything has been pretty raw.


i was first introduced to transgendered culture when i was sixteen. in one summer, my best friend came out as trans, and his boyfriend and the boy i was ridiculously thrilled for were also both trans. the boundaries i hadn't even realized existed on sex and gender up to that point were blown completely open, and i don't remember ever feeling more free than i did that summer. it was the best and the worst summer of my life, but that's a story for another time, when i'm feeling brave enough to write it.

i took a crash course on all things transgendered culture, all things genderqueer and genderless. i fell in love with leslie feinberg. it taught me to question myself. to challenge ideas of who i thought i was as something more than just given at birth. i learned to appreciate my body in a new way, as something i could define, and looking back now, for sixteen, that's quite the fucking revolution. i could not only define my body as i felt it should be, but i could define the rest of me in the same ways. because of this, i'm pretty good at knowing what i want and what i don't, where i stand and why i stand there. i like my parts and i know what they're for. they're mine. physically, mentally - i have touched every part of myself, listened to my movement and my thoughts, felt and learned me. i can give you more than just adjectives when asked for my definition.

my whole life before, i'd been under the impression that because i was born female, i had to play the part. (you know the one. there's this entire movement inspired by it.) i wasn't good at it. i was chubby and awkward and i'd never even held anyone's hand before. but i knew the part i was supposed to play, and i hated myself for never knowing the lines or stage directions to a second of it. i was an unhappy kid, and when i hit puberty and felt without being able to articulate the legacy of being a female that so many generations before me had perfected into a craft of body-conscious grace and silence, my self perception was as doomed as the rest of us. i was aware of every shortcoming i possessed. i lived with my father and younger sister. i can't put into words how much i wished my mother was a stable and constant part of my life when i was thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. i was desperate for guidance, desperate to be pretty, desperate to be the type of girl that i was supposed to be, desperate to learn what that even was, completely, because it was constantly hinted at, but the clear definition eluded me. if i could just get my hands on it, swallow it whole and let t absorb itself into my bloodstream, i could be it.

and isn't that the struggle every girl goes through, growing up?

so at sixteen i started a revolution without realizing i had. people are so much more free than they know they are, i think. so many things are viewed as black and white, only, but we're capable of being limitless. the boxes we live inside are firmly placed in our minds by years of experiencing the world and trying our best to fit into it as we are "meant to be." these boxes, though, can be removed just as well as anything else can. i refuse to say something like live outside the box, because honestly i hate that phrase and it reminds me of that tv show for kids that i never actually liked as a kid, but. this was my revolution, and i wake up every day, and sometimes i forget, and i have a bad day because i can't live up to the expectations, and that's okay, too. i am, at best, a work in progress, but my shape holds its place even at my worst.

the word revolution sounds, and is, really empowering, and so sometimes i don't like to use it. because even with freedom, there's something else. as an individual sticking it to the rest of societal norms, it's a wonderful feeling. but as a person that has wants and longs for, it's difficult. it's lonely to fight and fight for yourself, and to never stop fighting, because if you do, it'll feel worse than loneliness. knowing what i know about myself now means that if i were to stop defending my place and give into every opposing force that wants me to be that girl, i'd feel bad about myself in fifty ways i didn't before i ever had anything close to a revolution. knowing myself this way means i can't really un-know it. and so the battle marches on, but for a pretty decently sized chunk of time now it's been the lonely and the kind of hard that makes me want to throw in the white towel, stop trying and go with supposed to be as long as i can have a second of peace, dear god, peace and quiet. there are days it's hard to get out of bed knowing i can't give in, and there are days i just don't get out of bed at all, for the same reason.


sydney was transgendered. she came to my house and we made friendship bracelets and laughed and she was lovely and a little strange. she was my friend. and then one day in june, she sat in a car in her garage and kept breathing until she wasn't breathing anymore.

i can't pretend to know her struggles personally, nor do i attempt to. she never told me. but sydney lived and fought for a life that was in direct opposition of most everyone around her. when she wanted to use the girls room and was told it made other girls uncomfortable, she walked right in there anyway. when she wanted to wear a white robe to her graduation instead of blue and was told she couldn't, she did. when she wanted her name in the yearbook to be her name, and not her birth name, she got that, too. this is amazing, and i don't mean to make it sound any less amazing than it is, but over and over she fought for things in the face of being told she was unnatural, wrong, disgusting, a freak. my transgendered friends go through something that i want to break apart in my hands and shape into something that will make them feel better. that will make them feel real and accepted and whole. that will give them a sense of belonging. that will let them be completely happy. if i could give them any of that in any way, i would. i would do anything. that's a pretty dramatic and romanticized statement, but i would.

the only thing i can really say about sydney is everything i've been trying to say. identity is the hardest thing, because so often it is denied by the people around us. you say you're one way, more than one person says you're not, and the majority has it.

sydney, i wish you would've let me help you feel less lonely. maybe that was something i could have done. and i'm upset and i'm angry sometimes, that you're gone, that you did that to yourself when you gave yourself so much. it wasn't easy, but you did what you did while you were around and you did it well, and you were always excited when you walked into a room, and i was always jealous of your hair. sometimes, syd, i'm not angry or upset at all. but constantly, i feel where you belong and where you're just not anymore.

if we're fighting and we're living for ourselves and to get ourselves back, i kind of hope that this really changes the world. that we become so good at who we are that we can give it to each other, too. that we don't end up anything like generations before. that we fight like hell without it turning us too hard, and that we let ourselves be lonely while we have to be without letting it turn us too soft. that we can leave behind something else. maybe sydney's death was the result of a symptom she just couldn't cure. that for all her trying, she couldn't make it fit. i believe that she could have, but she didn't. so i hope that we can become ourselves well enough that there's no limit to what we can give each other, too. all the room in the world to belong to each other in, without having to compromise ourselves for it.

this is what i've been trying to say since she died, i think.
okay, so i'm the dragon. big deal.
13 February 2010 @ 10:24 pm
"Caw, caw!" A huge black crow circled above me in the air and landed on a rock nearby. We looked at each other in silence.
"Crow, are you a girl or a boy?"
"Caw, caw!"
I laughed and rolled over on my back. The sky was crayon blue. I pretended I was lying on the white cotton clouds. The earth was damp against my back. The sun was hot, the breeze was cool. I felt happy. Nature held me close and seemed to find no fault with me.

-Leslie Feinberg, Stone Butch Blues

i need to reread this book, asap.
okay, so i'm the dragon. big deal.
13 February 2010 @ 09:34 pm
i am so tired. and of course, i'm at work. and of course, everyone is sleeping. and of course, i have to be here for about two more hours.


i have nothing else to do, other than complain. my weekends are shit. workworkworkwork.

i've gone through a box of orange tictacs today. "bleeker, check your mail," anyone?

oh hey. here's something. dear flist. if you had nothing to do for the next six months of your life, what would you do?
okay, so i'm the dragon. big deal.
12 February 2010 @ 01:29 am
battlestar galactica season three: commencing as soon as i hit play, in a minute.

season two feelingsCollapse )

in other news. in the past six months, three people have told me, 'i love you,' and i'm not exactly sure what i'm doing wrong here. one of those people is that battle for my sanity that i frequently mention, so that's that whole story i'm not going to bother with right now. but the other two "love" invented versions of me, or something, idek. i think there is something about me that makes it easy to mistake me for someone i'm not? is this a people thing? people saying 'i love you' so fast freaks me out, because love takes time. we have our whole lives, you know? and i mean. infatuation and attraction and want are all really great things, but they're the surface of things, from what i've come to know of them. i don't know if i know much about love at all, and i think talking about it is as hard as talking about god or something.

i believe in love. i know i do. i don't fall for these declarations, and i don't let it get me too upset when people come in, mistake me for one thing, figure out i'm another, and leave as quick as they can. this happens. people are weird about knowing people, i think.

i believe in love, but lately i don't have much faith in it.

actually you said, love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. it's like a religion. it's terrifying. no one will ever want to sleep with you.

richard siken knows everything about me.

maybe i find it strange when people don't think about love like that, too.
okay, so i'm the dragon. big deal.
09 February 2010 @ 10:48 pm
BSG S2 update again:

gaius is such a mindfuck.

and billy. </3. so much.
okay, so i'm the dragon. big deal.
09 February 2010 @ 04:04 pm
BSG S2 update:

fuck you, battlestar pegasus, and your crazy admiral too. jfc.
okay, so i'm the dragon. big deal.
08 February 2010 @ 04:26 am
two episodes into BSG season two and i'm already and weeping, nervous wreck.


and can i just say that billy (i think) and dee (i'm pretty positive) are perfect and adorable and my fondness for everything about this show grows deeper and deeper and fuck you cylon ship invaders and gaius you're a fucking freeeak and i love chief sfm because he's clearly "HOW IS THIS HAPPENING BECAUSE IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE DIFFERENT" all the time and oh my heart and KARA PAINTS WHAT DOES HER WALL SAY PROBABLY SOMETHING EPIC? yeah?

okay, good.

(it's four AM. this is what i do when i know i don't have work tomorrow. jfc, get a liiiife.)

conversations about using the words "slut" and "whore" to describe ANYBODY? do not go well with me when you think it's actually acceptable to do so. NO it is not.
i mean, COMMON SENSE WOULD SUGGEST that i do not even have to explain why this is a valid statement at all times, regardless of so-and-sos behavior or number of sexual partners. it is never okay to make someone feel degraded, worthless or to belittle them at all ever for their choices or any other reason on this planet. don't do it.

the depths of truly insane said conversation went makes me think there is no hope for humanity, feminism, polar bears and/or reason.

people need to stop destroying each other. if we can't even get that accomplished, then what hope does anything else have at all? and i don't mean perfection, and i don't mean not holding each other accountable for our actions either. i mean constructive. i mean we walk out of our houses everyday and face so many things that all conspire to deconstruct our sanity, and if we could just look at each other without using words like "slut" and "whore" or any other terrible thing, it would be better. lay your weapons down. it's easy to hold someone at an arms length away because they're filthy or some equally terrifying thought. but no one is filthy. people are hurting all over the fucking place. people are living their lives the best they can, and making choices for themselves for so many reasons, whatever but you don't know. you have no idea what any single person you pass by or hear about is living. you don't get to call them names because of what you think you see on the surface of things.


just stop it. thank you. can we attempt something like building each other up? is this too much to hope for? i sometimes consider myself an idealist, and yes, this would be ideal, but i mean. guys. do people really walk around saying they don't want it any other way because it's really in our nature to be like this? i don't know if i can believe that. i know that we, as humans, are capable of being better than this, at least. if only that, it's still something.